


花見 「flower viewing」

by firetan



Category: Nurarihyon no Mago | Nura: Rise of the Yokai Clan
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Illnesses, M/M, Sickfic, a fuckton of characters make appearances okay, but not really the lovers part, does it count as a sickfic if one character is always sick tho, ft. the miracle of nonexplicit childbirth in chapter 2, i'm not gonna tag all of them, just a little bit, just gets to the 'yes we're kind of a thing' part, lemme know if there are other tags you think i need to add, sort of, yokai reproduction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-25
Updated: 2016-11-27
Packaged: 2018-09-02 02:14:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8647777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firetan/pseuds/firetan
Summary: "Oi, Rikuo!" Kiyotsugu's exclamation dragged his attention over to his group of human friends, who were clustered around Kiyotsugu's ever-present laptop with concerned expressions. "Come take a look at this." The Third Head scooted over to sit beside them, leaning over to look at the screen as Kiyotsugu continued, "The weather report for the area just issued a blizzard warning. Sounds like a late one's coming down from the mountains - they're telling everyone to head home as soon as they can."
 A somewhat-less-than-natural blizzard sweeps into town following an unusually cold winter, and many things (including quite a few emotions) take a sharp turn for the worse. Or, depending on your point of view, for the better.





	1. storm

**_「大丈夫ですか」_ **

**\---------------------------------**

"Are you sure you're well enough for this?"

Waving away Rikuo's concerned question, Zen laughed heartily and promptly dissolved into coughing once again. The young heir, now in his second year of senior high school, leaned forward to pat his friend on the back with a rather resigned look on his face. Sitting beside them on the extraordinarily large blanket, Shōei tugged his signature red cloak off and draped it over Zen's shoulders with a sigh. Against the deep scarlet color, the paleness of the bird yōkai's skin and short, mint-green hair were even more pronounced than usual, and Rikuo paused to wonder if his friend usually wore shades of blue and green specifically to counteract this effect.

It had been a hard winter for many people — much colder than most, with snow piling up even in places like Ukiyoe town, which didn't usually get snow at all. The local hospital had been overwhelmed for a few days in the middle of January because of the sheer number of people who had fallen ill due to the weather, and the town had put out a mandatory vaccination request that Rikuo — being a quarter yōkai — had instead fulfilled with one of Zen's many medicines.

Zen himself, however, had been unfortunate enough to get on the worsened weather's bad side, and had spent most of the season too ill to leave his home (and, on the worst days, his bed). Rikuo and Shōei, concerned for their childhood friend, had insisted on running regular visits to his home to keep him company and take care of the tasks he was too ill to do himself. He had, of course, kept up a constant stream of snark over the babying-like treatment — seriously, he was the oldest of them, he didn't _need_ to be treated like a child _WHAT DO YOU MEAN SAY AHH_ — but in the end hadn't offered much more than a token protest at the assistance.

However, winter had finally broken, and the Nura clan had gathered together for the first _O-Hanami_ of the season, hidden in their own grove of trees, of course. Different clans and groups sat together on their own blankets, but Rikuo had insisted on Zen and Shōei joining him on the main house's blanket-that's-really-large-enough-to-cover-every-bed-in-the-house-with-room-to-spare. It had to be that large, of course, because the main house included a great many yōkai, including all those who didn't have a clan or home of their own.

Nearby, the Gyūki group's blanket was situated under a tree with particularly low-hanging branches that both Mezumaru and Gozumaru had immediately begun clambering up with uncharacteristic excitement. The latter had challenged Rikuo to try and out-climb them, but he had cheerfully declined in favor of sitting with Zen and Shōei and his friends. Kana, Kiyotsugu, and Torii had all agreed to attend the _O-Hanami_ , having grown more accustomed to the yōkai of the Nura clan over the years. Maki and Shima had both also become fond of Rikuo's strange extended family, but Shima — still on a football team, and doing quite well at it — had a match that he couldn't miss, and Maki was out of town for the week visiting a pen-friend in Tokyo, so neither of them had been able to make it to the event.

Yura was also present, but she and the rest of the Keikain visitors were seated on their own (likely warded) blanket closer to the edge of the event. She seemed comfortable enough, and was even making small talk with Kana across the blankets, but Ryūji and Mamiru seemed to still be rather stiff in the presence of so many yōkai. Of course, that could have been due to them both having to exert a certain amount of energy on preventing the Raijū within Mamiru from attacking all of the yōkai present on sight. Hidemoto, having been summoned by Yura for the event (not exactly a _proper_ use of Hagun, as her brother had informed her, but she figured he might enjoy the chance to relax with his old friend — weird as said friend might be), was reclining near the edge of the main house blanket and reminiscing about old stories with Nurarihyon.

Rikuo's grandfather, even having gained a few wrinkles and scars over the years that had passed, was just as sly and snappy as he had been for the majority of his hundreds of years of life. In the relative peace that had followed the defeat of Abe no Seimei, he had returned to pranking the residents of Ukiyoe town for a number of months until Rikuo sat down with him and hammered out an agreement about limits regarding the rest of the townsfolk (the ultimatum had been placing limits or getting one of the Keikain family — not Yura, since they got along rather well — permanently stationed in town with permission to thwart him whenever possible).

On the other side of the main house's blanket was yet another, smaller one that hosted the Tōno visitors. Awashima and Itaku had become regular visitors, and the former was joyously knocking back sake while the latter attempted to meditate away the urge to knock his companion over the head with a sickle (or four). Reira was also present, chatting with Tsurara and Setsura about various different tricks and spells they had figured out or discovered since the last time they'd been able to speak, while Amezō had declined the invitation (citing that cherry blossoms were about as far from his preferred habitat as possible, and he didn't much care for pretty things anyway) and remained in Tōno with Dohiko.

There were even a few guests from Shikoku and Kyōto, though they had all sequestered themselves near the edge of the event and were relatively quiet compared to the rowdy Nura clan (although Dassai, who had sat down next to Tamazuki for no particular reason, was just about rowdy enough on his own to match them). Kyōkotsu was chatting happily with Kejōrō while the older woman plaited her hair back in complex braids, Kubinashi watching the two of them with just the slightest hint of wariness in his gaze.

Old animosities had, over the past few years, mostly been forgiven and forgotten, but the lingering feeling of caution had yet to fade completely. The Keikain clan had still placed themselves as far away from the Kyōto yōkai as possible, while Shōei was keeping a careful distance from the Shikoku visitors, the still-present sting of his father's death holding him back from fully accepting their presence as acquaintances (if not allies) of the Nura clan. 

In an effort to ignore them, he leaned over and re-adjusted the cloak more precisely over Zen's shoulders as his most recent coughing fit finally ceased. "You know, you really don't sound all that recovered, Zen. You don't have to stay if you're really not feeling well."

"Oh, pssh." The bird yōkai rolled his eyes, leaning back and holding the cloak over his shoulders with one hand while wiping his lips with the back of the other. "The term 'feeling well' isn't even in my vocabulary. I'm strong enough for this — besides, why would I want to miss flower viewing with you bastards?"

Rikuo raised a single eyebrow, the similarity between his day and night forms growing more and more pronounced by the day as he matured (not to mention that he had stopped wearing glasses last year, seeing no need to keep hiding behind them). "Just as long as you're sure you're alright, Zen. I don't want your poison wings leaving my Hyakki Yakkō anytime soon, you know."

"Hah, like I would!" Zen grinned. "You're not getting rid of me that easily."

"I'm glad." The candor in Rikuo's tone caught both of his friends off guard, as did the concerned tilt of his eyebrows that his wide smile nearly succeeded at hiding. "I really would be sad to lose you, Zen."

Shōei glanced between the two of them with one brow raised, caught between curiosity and mild surprise, while Zen snorted and reached over to ruffle Rikuo's hair with his free hand. "Tch, don't go getting all soppy on me now. What happened to that overconfident young— huh? What's this?"

A flake of whiteness had fallen onto the back of his hand, followed by another. Looking up, Rikuo saw that more flakes were beginning to fall from the sky, swirling gently and blending in with the flower petals. "Snow? At this time?"

"Oi, Rikuo!" Kiyotsugu's exclamation dragged his attention over to his group of human friends, who were clustered around Kiyotsugu's ever-present laptop with concerned expressions. "Come take a look at this." The Third Head scooted over to sit beside them, leaning over to look at the screen as Kiyotsugu continued, "The weather report for the area just issued a blizzard warning. Sounds like a late one's coming down from the mountains — they're telling everyone to head home as soon as they can."

Considering the situation, Rikuo pondered for a few moments before asking, "Can you find a real-time weather map?" Most yōkai weren't very familiar with newer human technology, but he'd found that many of their developments were more useful than not. The ability to track weather patterns with real-time images through the use of satellites was one of those more useful inventions. Kiyotsugu pulled up the requested map, while Kana shivered and tugged her coat back on with a grimace. Looking down at the image, Rikuo resisted the urge to mimic the motion.

"That does look like a blizzard. Alright, everybody," He stood and raised his voice, commanding the attention of the many flower-viewers, "We've just gotten a weather report that there's a really bad blizzard on its way. The humans have issued a blizzard warning telling everyone to head home and get inside as soon as they can. While I know we may consider ourselves less than vulnerable to these things, we are not invincible and, in light of recent weather, are possibly more susceptible to the effects of these things than we believe. I would like to request that we bring today's _hanami_ to a close and return to the main house, as it's the nearest and large enough for all our guests. From there, those of you with nearby lodgings can return home safely."

Yura glanced up, mildly startled. "We won't be able to return to Kyōto in time, Rikuo. Where should we go? We're not currently staying anywhere in town."

"If you're not opposed, we have enough room for you to stay at the main house if the weather's that bad." Rikuo leveled a mildly nervous look at Ryūji and Mamiru, allowing himself a moment to wish that Akifusa had been able to make it (he was on better terms with the weapon smith than with Yura's closer brothers, and it would be easier to negotiate a solution to this issue with him).

Mamiru's eternally deadpan expression seemed to grow a little tighter, while Ryūji's frown grew deeper. Eventually, however, he responded with a reluctant, "If that's what it takes, we will be grateful for your generous hospitality."

The relief that immediately lit up Rikuo's face was palpable. "Thank goodness. Who else will need to stay at the main house in the event of travel becoming too dangerous?"

Itaku immediately spoke up. "While we of Tōno would rather return than let weather best us, if the conditions indeed grow untenable we will remain on the main house grounds until such time as we can leave safely."

"You know," Rikuo had to fight back a laugh as he turned to respond to his mentor, "You can stay in the house as well, not just on top of it. I don't think trees will be a very pleasant shelter during a snowstorm. Ah, well," Puffing up his cheeks and patting them down with both hands to center himself, he continued, "We can decide these things once we return. Let's pack up and head back, alright?"

Around them, the snow was falling ever thicker, gradually swallowing up the few petals that the wind had torn from their blossoms.

**\-------------------**

The trip back to the main house would have been, on any normal day, relatively short and easy to make, as the walk was direct and on mostly even ground, with low levels of underbrush that made it incredibly easy to tamp out a path there and back. Today, however, with the large group that was traveling and the quickly worsening weather conditions — the snow was, by the time they'd packed up and left the clearing, falling in earnest and beginning to obscure sight lines — the journey took over half an hour to make. Many of the smallest yōkai had resorted to clambering onto their friend's backs to avoid the inevitable moment when the snow on the ground grew too thick for them to walk through.

Rikuo himself trudged along at the front of the group, stomping down on any bush or shrub that had begun to slope into the path they were making. Shōei followed just behind with Zen on his back, as the bird yōkai had been forbidden from strenuous activities until he was at least closer to fully recovered (if he ever could be counted as such) and both Shōei and Rikuo had taken it as a go-ahead to carry their friend everywhere despite his protests. 

Tsurara and the destruction monks followed behind, ushering the rest of the humans present along while subtly guarding them from anything that might jump out of the bushes. While the defeat of Abe no Seimei had, for the most part, cemented the Nura clan's position of power and notability, there were always some yōkai who remained in their shadows, skulking and waiting for an opportunity to tear them down. Rikuo had eventually decided that whenever he was having his human friends over, at least two of the three would be available as guards for the group. Tsurara and Aotabō, of course, were already solid friends with the rest of the Kiyo Cross Squad, while Kurotabō had grown fond of them (as he was likely to do, given that he was a protector of children) and enjoyed conversing with all members of the group, Torii and Maki in particular. All three had taken to the duty with gusto, especially once the teens had really begun maturing in earnest and were both wiser about their explorations and more able to hold an intelligent discussion.

Kejōrō and Kubinashi were escorting Kyōkotsu, who — despite actually being more than old enough to take care of herself — seemed to appreciate the vaguely parental attention. In the absence of Hagoromo-Gitsune — who had declined the invitation in favor of celebrating with her Kyōto yōkai — she seemed to have latched onto Kejōrō in particular as a substitute big sister figure, which ultimately dragged Kubinashi along as a big brother as well. (At least, he reminded himself over and over, at least he didn't have to try to make nice with the oni bastard who had nearly killed both he and Kino back in Kyōto).

Finally, the main house came into view, and along with it Kappa and Wakana, who had both declined the flower-viewing in favor of remaining at home (or, in Kappa's case, in his pond). Rikuo waved at his mother, whose smile immediately brightened.

"Welcome back! I'm glad nobody seems hurt, it looks like you got the warning in time."

Kiyotsugu waved cheerily, and Rikuo jabbed a finger in his direction. "Kiyotsugu brought his laptop, so he told us as soon as he got the alert. Good thing, too — the snow's already getting thicker."

"Yes, and this late in the year too." Wakana frowned in concern, tapping her lips for a few moments before brightening once again and clapping her hands together. "Well, no matter about it! Now you go and bring Zen back to his room to rest, this change can't be good for his recovery. The rest of you, let's get to setting up rooms for our guests!" 

Tsurara immediately darted over to begin directing yōkai to help dust floors, retrieve futons and bedrolls from closets, and tidy up rooms for anyone who would need to stay during the storm. Gozumaru and Mezumaru she recruited to make sure all the windows were properly shut and the rooms well ventilated, while Aotabō and Kurotabō were instructed to guide the humans — Ukiyoe teens and Kyōto onmyōji alike — to the sitting room to stay slightly away from the ensuing yōkai mania. She herself bustled off to commandeer the kitchen, where she and a host of others began planning out how to manage the food situation, with so many people likely staying the night.

Relieved to be out of charge, Rikuo jerked his head silently at Shōei and the two of them split off from the main group, heading around to the back of the house where Zen habitually stayed whenever he decided to visit (which was often). The cold and the snow had begun to take their toll once again, and even with the added warmth of Shōei's cloak a few shivers managed to make their way through his body.

Once Shōei had set him down and left to retrieve a second blanket, he made a face and coughed into his hand. "Che, what's with the weather, taking a turn like this…" 

"Well, it does happen sometimes, I suppose." Rikuo sat down beside him, choosing to forgo seiza in favor of crossing his legs and leaning back on the heels of his palms. "This really has been an unusually cold year, though."

"Keh." The bird yōkai huffed irritably. "Inconvenient, that's what it's been. A giant hassle."

Beside him, Rikuo laughed. "You just don't like being taken care of, Zen."

"Damn right I don't! I'm the doctor here, why am I always being fussed over by you two bastards?!"

The Third rolled his eyes. "Because you don't know how to take care of yourself, so we have to do it instead. No-one's fault but your own, really. Hey, speaking of which," He leaned closer, tapping his forehead against that of his friend and letting it rest there for a few moments, "—yep. Fever's back. I knew you shouldn't have come out today!"

"Pah, whatever." 

The lack of fight in his friend's tone gave Rikuo pause, and when he leaned back and really looked at his friend, he noticed that Zen's eyes were slightly off-focus and there was a slight flush of color in his cheeks. He seemed to be looking somewhere completely different than the sight that was actually before him. The older yōkai blinked a few times and shook his head, as though trying to clear some sort of haze from his mind. "Shit, sorry. Blanked out for a few moments there."

Rikuo narrowed his eyes. "Zen, you said you were better." He leaned forward and crossed his arms, tapping the side of one foot irritably against the floor. "A fever high enough that you're spacing out like that does not count as better, you asshole!"

"Oi, oi, why does that make me the asshole?" Zen matched the position as best he could, though he had to uncross his arms quickly in order to brace them against the floor to keep himself upright. "You're the one who got all close to my face out of nowhere! What the hell was that for, anyway?!"

A snort was Rikuo's first response, followed by, "To check your temperature, since you obviously can't manage to not be sick for more than a week."

"Keh— you didn't have to check it with your forehead, asshole."

One eyebrow tilted upwards innocently as Rikuo pondered. "Huh. I guess I didn't. That's just how Mom and Tsurara and Kubinashi always did it when I was younger, so maybe it just was… er, subconscious, somehow?" He drummed the tips of his fingers against his upper arm, pausing to pick absently at a loose thread that was beginning to unravel from one of the seams in his kimono. "Some sort of sense memory that just came to the surface without me thinking about it?"

"Maybe." The two paused in silence for a few moments, listening to people moving around the house and setting up rooms for all those who would be staying overnight. Glancing towards the outer wall of the room, through which the vague shapes of falling snow could be seen, Zen pursed his lips. "S'weird, though. A snowstorm this late, in Ukiyoe— seems wrong, somehow."

Thoughtful, Rikuo nodded in agreement. "It really does. Maybe I could ask Miss Setsura, she might have some idea of wha—"

He didn't get a chance to finish his sentence as Shōei burst back into the room, dumping about three extra blankets unceremoniously on top of Zen as he panted, having clearly run over from whatever task he'd doubtlessly been roped into helping with.

"Rikuo! Big Sis is gone!"

**\-------------------**

"Okay, guys, be quiet!"

Slamming one hand against the doorframe, Rikuo looked around at the stilled chaos that had taken over the main room of the house. Behind him, Zen leaned against the doorframe, coughing discretely into one curled fist. The room was a mess — futons laid out at skewed angles to each other, some yōkai cleaning, some playing card games, one or two already knocking back sake — and the only spot of calm in the mess was the table around which the humans and the two destruction monks were seated.

With everyone effectively silenced by the Third Head's command, he reiterated the question he'd been trying to ask for two minutes. "Alright, what happened, and where is Tsurara?"

Unsurprisingly, it was Kiyotsugu — long since the official 'observer' of the friend group — who spoke up, one hand raising in the air as though in class to make sure he was heard. "She had come in from the kitchen to organize a crew in here — sounds like there's enough people staying that they ran out of room upstairs — and she was just giving them instructions about where to lay the futons when— well, I'm not entirely sure, but the wind blew the door open and she just… left. Stood up and walked out like she was in some sort of trance."

"She was Called."

Rikuo inclined his head to Setsura, giving her permission to continue explaining. "If a Yuki Onna is in dire need, she can send out a Call to others of her kind to summon them to help. Reira and I," She nodded towards the Tōno Yuki Onna, "because we are much older, can hear the Call without feeling a compulsion to heed it. However, my daughter is yet young, and has not ever heard a Call before. It is likely that she simply acted instinctively — she is in no danger." She swept a few strands of hair out of her face casually. "A storm like this is a blessing for our kind."

"I see." Rikuo frowned thoughtfully. "Do you think this storm could be caused by the same Yuki Onna who called Tsurara? If she were in danger, she could have created this storm to protect herself, since you just described it as a blessing for ayakashi like you."

Setsura mulled over the idea for a few moments before nodding. "It is possible. However, because the storm came before the Call by such a gap— I am inclined to believe that the storm is an instinctual reaction, rather than a conscious decision. And that means—"

"—that she's already been hurt."

The unhappy expression on Rikuo's face tightened further, and behind him Zen placed a steadying hand on his shoulder. "So what should we do? If she's hurt, we should help her! What if she's being attacked by an invading force — it could be the beginning of another invasion, we can't just do nothing!"

Setsura narrowed her eyes, but it was Reira who spoke up this time. "It's probably not an attack. I've— I've seen this happen before." 

The eyes of everyone in the room turned to her, and Kiyotsugu readied a fresh notebook page and held his pen at the ready as she continued. "It was a few hundred years ago, when I was younger than Tsurara is now. It— my mother, also a Yuki Onna, was pregnant. When she'd had me, it had been a very easy birth— I suspect it was the same for you, Miss Setsura, with Tsurara." Setsura nodded, prompting her to continue, "But my mother's second child was male. Of course, that means he couldn't be a Yuki Onna like us, but would instead take after his father. And when she went into labor— snowstorms for days, in the middle of the summer. The humans were terrified, and she was— she was in so much pain, and there was nobody around to help. She begged me to find a healer, but there weren't any close enough."

Zen spoke up, startling a number of yōkai who had forgotten that he was there. "What happened then? Did the labor run its course properly?"

"…" Reira shook her head sadly. "No. Without a healer there to help… she passed away before my brother could be born."

A solemn silence fell over the room, as the various collected yōkai and humans digested what they'd just learned. Rikuo was trying to think of a way to possibly find Tsurara and bring her and this unknown Yuki Onna back to the main house where they could help her when Shōei spoke up with an alarmed tone.

"Wait, but if she needs a healer there to help, then the first one Big Sis will go to is—"

Rikuo, the first to process his friend's words, whirled on his heel a moment to late. Between one second and the next, a blast of cold wind flattened everyone in the room against the floor and walls, icicles spontaneously forming in the door frames and rafters. Aotabō quickly tossed his outer robe over his human charges, while Kurotabō leveled a sleeve at the source of the blast. In the hallway, Tsurara appeared and disappeared once again in a swirl of thick white snow, leaving a gentle bank against the walls as she left. 

And when Rikuo managed to look up, eyes smarting from the sting of the gale, it was to see that Zen had also disappeared. The extra blanket that had been draped over his shoulders fluttered listlessly to the ground.

Something in his chest squeezed tight, like a vice-grip on his heart.

"Zen!"

**\-------------------**

"Oi, oi, no need to be grabby." Gathering a sack of medical supplies from his cupboards, Zen rolled his eyes at Tsurara as she tapped on foot on the floor impatiently. "I would've come with you anyways, you know. Medicine guy and all that."

The young Yuki Onna pursed her lips, eyes narrowed and golden gaze sharp. "Yes, but she needs you NOW. Do you really have to take so long?"

"Look, if you want me to be able to help, you gotta let me get my stuff. A doctor can do jack diddley squat without medicine and tools, you know — it ain't like we can say some magic word and hey, presto! everything's cured." He coughed into one hand, leaning against the wall for a few moments before straightening and slinging the sack over his shoulder. "I don't suppose your new friend can wait for me to grab a few blankets from the main house, can she?"

Tsurara shook her head. "Not necessary. We need to go now!"

"Sheesh, impatient much? Fine, fine, let's go."

_Sorry, Rikuo. A healer's gotta do what a healer's gotta do._

_I don't want to worry you like this, but you're gonna worry like the emotional bastard you are, ain'tcha?_

_Don't go getting yourself in a twist. I'll be back soon._

_Promise._


	2. fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things always have to get worse before they can get better.

**_「大丈夫じゃない。でも,」_ **

**\---------------------------------**

"Master Rikuo, I know you're worried, but you need to calm down!"

The Third shook his head angrily, batting half-heartedly at his mother as she wrapped her arms around him and tried to calm him down. "I can't calm down, Kubinashi! He's still sick, if she drags him out into this weather— he didn't even bring his haori, he's going to freeze— how can you tell me to calm down right now?" Before he could let anything else escape, he bit down hard on his lip, breathing heavily and shaking his head again as though to try and clear reality from his mind like some sort of fog. Logically, he knew he didn't need to be this worried; Zen could take care of himself, he probably wanted to be out there helping anyways, he didn't need Rikuo to protect him all the time. Logically, he knew he was overreacting, that he should instead be planning how they were going to organize and help. Somehow, though, the only thing he could focus on was that Zen was still sick and he had just been stolen into the middle of a snowstorm and Rikuo _didn't know where he'd gone._

The collected yōkai and humans in the room watched as the young Head's face cycled rapidly through expressions, from concern to anger to thoughtfulness to pain to concern again, color slowly beginning to flush across his cheeks from where they had paled at the sight of his vanished friend. A small bead of blood rolled down from where he'd bitten his lip so viciously that the skin had broken, the red bright against his still-pale face. For many of them, it had been a number of years now since they'd last seen Rikuo react so emotionally to something.

Still grouped around a table at the far side of the room, the human guests observed the spectacle in confusion. Most of them hadn't had the pleasure of seeing their friend this emotional at all, so it was even more of a shock to see him react so strongly. Kana turned to ask Tsurara what was going on, but then remembered that the Yuki Onna was also gone, and instead posed the question to Aotabō, who huffed.

"They're childhood friends. Young Master's known Lord Zen since before even you kids. He was the first one to join the Young Master's Hyakki Yakkō — only one to take a 50-50 pledge, too."

"A 50-50 pledge?" Kiyotsugu piped up, keeping his voice quiet so as not to disturb the rest of the room, curiosity glowing in his eyes. "What does that mean? Is that how you join a Hyakki Yakkō? What sort of pledge did the rest of you take?"

Glancing at Kurotabō to see if he wanted to answer and grunting when he received a negative, Aotabō shrugged. "It's not exactly necessary to join a Yakkō, but we can swear a pledge of loyalty to our leader by exchanging Sakazuki with 'em. The amount of Sake each participant drinks determines their standing with each other. The usual Sakazuki is a 70-30, which is swearing a pledge of allegiance to a leader. The leader drinks a 70 percent portion, the follower a 30 percent portion."

Yura blinked a few times, curious. "Then what does 50-50 do? Is it for an allegiance between two leaders?" Beside her, Ryūji and Mamiru wore practiced expressions of disinterest as they pointedly ignored the rest of the room, but both were watching their sister (by blood and by fostering) warily as they listened to the discussion. It would be useful, after all, to build up knowledge of yōkai customs — after all, there was the saying, 'know thine enemy'. (Of course, even with those who weren't enemies, a practical knowledge of customs would come in handy with negotiations and not accidentally provoking each other to war).

"Not quite." Kurotabō's voice was quiet. "Rather, it ignores the concept of leadership completely and pledges two individuals to each other. Because the Young Master and Lord Zen took a 50-50 pledge, they are sworn brothers. Both pledged to defend and protect each other."

"Oh."

Kana looked back at her friend, who had turned his face away from the room and appeared to be taking deep, calming breaths as his mother spoke quietly to him. So this wasn't like she or one of his classmates disappearing — this was more like a close family member being taken away from him. Even then, though… when Tsurara had disappeared, he had still been calm and focused, working to figure out what had happened so he could take action, and she was basically family to him too. Maybe the older yōkai's sickly state had something to do with it — she'd noticed that he was very pale, and had frequent coughing fits. Yes, that was probably why he had reacted with so much emotion.

Across the room, Kubinashi was trying — once again — to speak to Rikuo. "Master Rikuo, I know how you're feeling right now, but we can't let emotions get the better of us like this! We need to come up with a plan of action to apply to the situation."

"You don't know how I'm feeling right now, Kubinashi. Stop trying." Rikuo's voice was a bit scratchy from how much he'd been using it today, and he stubbornly refused to wipe away the trickle of blood running from his bitten lip. "I know you're trying to help, but you don't understand."

"Kyōto."

The young head paused and turned to look at the neckless yōkai, who was staring back with a steely gaze. "I know exactly how you feel right now, because it happened to me in Kyōto, and you remember what I did because of it."

"…" Teeth dug once again into Rikuo's unfortunate lower lip. "I don't think I'm going to go on a killing spree, Kubinashi. I have more self-control than that."

Kubinashi rolled his eyes. "The inference that I don't have good self-control aside—"

 _"You don't!"_ About four or five different voices from around the room called, prompting a surprised smattering of laughter from the worried and confused crowd. 

A bit of color flushed across Kubinashi's cheeks as he continued, "—what I'm saying is that when you let emotions control your plans, they usually end up not being the greatest of plans. I lost myself to fury, and nearly got both myself and Kejōrō killed thanks to it. You dwelling in these feelings isn't going to help Tsurara or Zen."

Rikuo sighed and nodded, leaning against the hand that his mother had gently resting on his shoulder. "I know. I just don't know what I should do, Kubinashi. I have no idea where he is or how to help him — any of them — and we can't just go out searching in this weather, I can't ask that of my Yakkō." He shook his head with an aura of defeat, shoulders sagging. "Some leader I am, stuck on something as small as this."

"Even the best leader will not be perfect." The unexpected reassurance came in the form of Gyūki's deep voice, the older yōkai having so far remained silent where he sat beside the door, Gozumaru and Mezumaru whispering quietly to each other beside him. "You have not faced this before. It is a mark of a wise leader to ask others for help when it is needed."

"Well, can you help, Gyūki? Do you know how to find them?"

Before the ox yōkai could respond, Setsura spoke up again. "He cannot, but we can." When Rikuo nodded at her with hopeful eyes, she continued, "The unknown Yuki Onna has not ceased the Call, and likely will not until the ordeal has ended, for good or for ill. Both Reira and I would be able to trace it directly to the source."

"Let's go, then!" Rikuo whirled on his heel and made to rush back into the main house, but a quiet "Who?" from somewhere in the room stopped him, and he turned to look back at them with his head tilted to the side, brown hair flopping over his shoulder.

"Me and Setsura and Reira, of course!"

His grandfather, who had spoken, simply raised one eyebrow. "And you think that's a wise idea, do you? Just the three of you, off into a snowstorm like that." At Rikuo's puzzled expression, Nurarihyon sighed. "Rikuo, closer to the source of that Call, there'll probably be other ayakashi that picked up on the fact that there's a vulnerable target — ayakashi that aren't part of the Nura group, who won't have any reservations against attacking the prey in front of them. Not that I doubt your fighting abilities — you've proven yourself in those — but it would be highly unwise to bring so little backup."

"Huh." Thinking about it, Rikuo supposed he could see his grandfather's point. Neither Zen nor Tsurara would likely be able to fight, and either Setsura or Reira would probably be occupied with the storm or defense and unable to fight. Plus, once everything was over, they'd need strong yōkai to help carry everyone back, since at least Zen and the mysterious Yuki Onna probably wouldn't be able to travel on their own. "Gotcha, gramps. How about—" He looked around the room contemplatively. 

Not any of the humans — even the onmyōji, as powerful as they were, would be much more likely to be harmed by the weather than most yōkai — and none of the Shikoku or Kyōto guests. It would be bad form to ask them to follow him — he wasn't their boss or close friend. Aotabō and Kurotabō he wanted to stay here and act as guards, so they were out, and both Kubinashi and Kejōrō would find it hard to fight in this weather (not to mention that he didn't really want to drag them away from Kyōkotsu, who seemed to have grown fond of them). 

He pursed his lips, thinking. "Shōei, Itaku, would you be willing to come with us?"

Shōei nodded immediately, brows furrowing in determination. Itaku took longer to consider, so Rikuo added, "You're very strong, and I know you can fight even in bad weather. Plus, that way Reira won't be the only Tōno ayakashi coming along, and I know you guys like to stick together."

"—Keh. This doesn't mean you get to command us or anything."

The third head laughed. "Of course! Alright, let's prepare and plan our course of action." His eyes brightened, sharp and glimmering with determination. "We're going to get everyone back safely."

**\-------------------**

"Okay, you're doing great."

The Yuki Onna that Tsurara had brought Zen to, who had between sobs told him that her name was Yōrira, whimpered in pain as another contraction hit. Tsurara was sitting beside him, letting the older Yuki Onna's head rest in her lap while both of her hands were wrapped gently around one of Yōrira's for comfort. When they had arrived, the first thing Zen had demanded was to transport her to a slightly more secure location, so together they had moved her from the open clearing where they'd found her to a nearby cave.

It wasn't anything more than a slight indent into the cliffside, shielded overhead by a rocky overhang but only barely providing shelter at the sides, but it was at least safer than being completely out in the open. Zen may have been sick, but he wasn't stupid — right now, they were an easy target for any manner of predators, and the storm wouldn't stop all of them.

As though summoned by his thoughts, a howl pierced the air outside of their meagre shelter, followed by another and then another. Underneath the sound of the howls echoing through the wind, he could hear a low growling.

"Shit." He swore quietly under his breath, turning his attention back to the new batch of temperature medicine that he'd just mixed, prompting Yōrira to swallow some (He suspected that the chief danger here was that of overheating, although pure exhaustion was a close second, so he was mostly working on temperature stabilizers and energy supplements). "Oi, Tsurara, get her some ice. There you go — you're doing really well. It won't be much longer, I promise."

_At least, I hope so._

_Shit, I hope help comes soon._

**\-------------------**

"Alright, are we all set?"

Rikuo looked around at his group of four, now-red eyes narrowed. The group wore similarly determined expressions (well, Setsura of course just looked mildly bored, but it was a rather determined type of boredom), and those with weapons had them at the ready. Rikuo himself — now in his yōkai form, as night had officially fallen — had on a fur-edged haori borrowed from his grandfather, and Nenekirimaru was tucked firmly into his obi. Both Shōei and Itaku were sporting similar extra layers against the cold, though in Itaku's case it was just a slightly warmer scarf.

He cleared his throat. "So, one more time. Our objective is to locate and defend our missing members and their charge. We are not going to take detours or start fights unless they are in direct danger. Setsura and Reira will lead us to the location, and once we are there Reira and Shōei will assist and shield our friends, while Setsura, Itaku and I will become active defense in the case of danger. We do not know how long it will take, so we are prepared for a long night. Is that clear?"

All four responded with solid affirmation, and Rikuo bared his teeth in a feral grin.

"Let's go."

**\-------------------**

_This is not good. This is incredibly not good._

Zen bit down on the inside of his lip, resisting the urge to tell the laboring Yuki Onna to just shut up, because the contractions were getting worse and she was back to screaming in pain when they hit, hot tears sizzling down her pale cheeks even as Tsurara continued conjuring ice for her forehead and throat and belly. The howls and growling were drawing closer, and he could see shadows creeping around in the white haze of the blizzard. Emanciated wolf-like shapes, and gaunt humanoids with furry ears.

Bakeōkami and Kasha — not good for them at all. Bakeōkami, unlike their significantly more noble relatives, were feral hunters more like Kyūso's rats than anything else. They weren't as much risk to humans, since they tended to stay in the wild and act like regular wolves, but when they found vulnerable victims they weren't particularly choosy about who they killed and ate. Kasha, on the other hand, didn't need to kill for food — they just did it because they liked to play at being the judge, jury, and executioner. They fed on the fear of their victims and the stench of death, and to them the sweetest stench was of a particularly violent death.

His medical supplies were starting to run low, since he had to keep mixing fresh batches, and his feet had gone completely numb, his arms starting to follow from the fingers up. It was getting harder to draw a proper breath, too, as though his trachea was getting narrower and narrower the longer he spent out in the cold. Logically, he knew that if this lasted too much longer, he'd lose consciousness before the child could be delivered. 

There wasn't any point in listening to that part of his mind, though — no use giving up while there's still something to be done, after all. And there was a small glimmer of hope — Yōrira was dilated enough to start actively pushing, and as soon as the head was through they would practically be done. As long as she had enough strength to make it that far, she and the child would be alright.

The moment he thought this and turned to mix another strengthening medicine, however, the howls abruptly ceased. In a matter of seconds, the shadowy figures lunged closer and leapt out of the storm, jaws full of uneven teeth snapping and slavering quickly shooting towards them— until they were blocked by a solid wall of ice that sprang up around the entrance to the cave, easily a foot thick and almost completely blocking out the sound of the storm. He turned to look at Tsurara, but she was just as surprised as he was.

Then, from the other side of the wall, a gently scolding voice echoed into their enclosure. "Now, Tsurara, don't tell me you forgot how to make a simple wall."

"Mother!"

A hole in the wall melted, revealing a group of yōkai standing outside with fierce grins and snow caught all over their clothes and hair. Shōei and the Tōno Yuki Onna (Zen couldn't remember her name right now) immediately ducked inside, setting down bundles beside him and leaving the hole open so he could see the three figures who had been behind them, stances fierce and weapons readied.

In the front, Rikuo raised an eyebrow. "Yo. Think you can hold out a bit longer?"

From the corner of his eye, Zen saw Reira unwrapping one bundle to reveal more medical supplies — no doubt from the main house — which she passed wordlessly to him, while a warm weight fell over his shoulders as Shōei dropped a blanket around him. His throat was still too tight to breathe comfortably, but now that they had help—

He grinned. "Keh— damn right I can. You go out there and fight those assholes — we'll handle it in here."

The fiery gleam in the Third's eyes brightened, and he jerked his chin up and down in a fierce nod. "Good. Close it up, Setsura." The older Yuki Onna nodded, blowing a gust of frost over the hole and sealing it up, hiding her, Rikuo, and Itaku from sight. As soon as the opening was closed and they were once again completely enclosed, Zen turned back to Yōrira and his new help crew.

"Alright. This is going to be the toughest part, but we're going to make it. Tsurara, you— Reira, that's your name, right? You two focus on keeping her temperature down. Shōei, you're going to help me mix medicines. Miss Yōrira, you're going to need to push with the next contraction. It's going to hurt, but hell if this baby's going to be born if you don't. Ready?"

**\-------------------**

Outside, Rikuo turned from the enclosing wall and immediately unsheathed his sword, blocking the teeth of another huge, gaunt wolf-creature as it lunged for him and the just-closed gap in the ice barrier. He grimaced, scrunching up his nose against its frankly putrid breath and flinging it away with a shove of the flat of his sword. In his peripheral vision, he saw Itaku leap away from another lunging Bakeōkami, landing on its back and deftly beheading it before leaping up to the top of the outcrop underneath which they'd found their missing friends sheltered.

His eyes narrowed, remembering how they had found them — just as a giant, ugly wolf had lunged at Zen's face with jagged teeth reaching to snap around his throat. The wideness of his friend's eyes, coupled with the stomach-churning paleness of his face, refused to leave the back of his mind as he faded from the awareness of the cat-like yōkai that had tried to cut him with a hand-paw full of razor-sharp claws easily six inches in length. He took a few steps behind it and let his sword slide through its neck like butter, turning to check on his teammates once again.

Itaku was jumping from target to target, razor-sharp winds cutting his foes to pieces when they tried to leap at him. Setsura was breathing blasts of freezing wind at groups of five at a time, coating them in solid sheets of ice with a somewhat irritated gleam in her eye. No doubt she was less pleased than she cared to let on about the dangerous situation her daughter had been drawn into, and was more than happy to take it out on these feral yōkai. 

These frozen attackers, Rikuo quickly took the opportunity to behead — no time to try to persuade them to join the Nura group, not like this. Turning to look around, he saw that the rest of the Bakeōkami — at least ten, still, it must be an entire pack attacking — had shifted to their humanoid forms, wielding brutally-sharp farming scythes and staring at the ice wall with hungry eyes.

"Who are you, to deny us our meal?" One of the slightly more put-together looking of the Bakeōkami spoke, his voice a low rasp that seemed ready to shift into a snarl at any second.

Hefting Nenekirimaru against his shoulder, Rikuo struck a nonchalant pose (he found this sometimes irritated his opponents, which of course was immensely satisfying to him) and rested one hand inside the fold of his kimono. Setsura and Itaku regrouped behind him, backs turned towards his so they could watch all around their group for threats. "We're from the Nura group. These ayakashi are under our protection."

"The Nura group?" The wolf laughed, baring teeth that honestly weren't any better in humanoid form than they were in wolf form. "They think they're the boss of us, just because of that mess a few years ago with that old Onmyō clan. Something like that doesn't give them the right to lord over all us ayakashi. Especially since they just sent a brat like you to try and defeat us—"

He was cut off as Rikuo's sword plunged through his throat, twisting savagely sideways and ripping through his jugular on its way out. The body fell into the snow, dark red blood seeping onto the white and just as quickly being covered up by the new flakes that were still falling thickly from the sky. The Third's eyes were dark.

"You talk too much."

As what Rikuo presumed to be their leader fell, the rest of the Bakeōkami charged towards them, weapons raised and ready to separate limbs from bodies and heads from shoulders. As he and Itaku charged forward to meet them, Setsura turned and hurled a series of rapidly-crafted ice spears at the contingent of Kasha that had decided to ambush them from the top of the outcrop. Their bodies crashed to the ground in front of the wall, where the Yuki Onna calmly froze them solid with a breath before turning to do the same to another group who'd tried sneaking around the side.

Nenekirimaru sang merrily through the air, adding its tune to the whistle of the storm as it crashed into and shattered the wolf yōkai's inferior weapons (already brittle from the cold and unuse). From their weapons, it leapt to their stomachs and necks. Rikuo could only take on two at a time, but with Itaku leaping around him like a force of nature, sickles flashing brutally with the speed of the winds surrounding them as they deflected and disarmed (and sometimes literally disarmed), it wasn't exactly a problem.

A loud crunching noise distracted him, and he looked up from the Bakeōkami he had just decapitated to see one of the previously-frozen Kasha, still with ice sticking to its arms and ankles, breaking a hole in the ice shield with a large stone. Large chunks of the protective structure fell away, exposing a portion large enough that he could see both Shōei and Zen through it, their backs to the opening as they worked. Claws unsheathing to a full length of eight or nine inches, the cat-like yōkai pulled its arm back, clearly intending to lunge in and stab one of the two closest to it.

"No!"

With no time to properly aim a sword strike, Rikuo just lunged forward and shouldered the Kasha out of the way, falling on top of it into the snow with a grunt and wincing as the clawed hand tore long gashes into his upper arm instead of its original target. As fast as possible, he rolled off and plunged his sword into the feral cat yōkai's throat, breath coming out in white puffs of condensation.

"Rikuo, are you alright?" Shōei poked his head out of the wall, ducking one of Setsura's ice spears as he did so. "What happened?"

"One of the Kasha got past us and broke a hole in the wall." Rikuo stood, sword clenched between his teeth as he tore off a strip of his under robe — definitely the most expendable part of his clothing, since the kimono itself was rather nice — and tied it over the sluggishly bleeding wounds just below his shoulder. "Was going to stab you or Zen while your backs were turned — don't worry, it's dead now. How are things in there?"

Shōei glanced back inside and turned to Rikuo again, weariness heavy in his ruby-red eyes. "The extra supplies really helped, and the blanket was a good idea — she's really close, Zen said if she can just hold on another few minutes the baby's head will be out, and from there it should be easy enough." Lowering his voice and leaning a bit further out, he added, "I'm worried about Zen, though. His breathing's getting really bad, and his hands are starting to shake. He started coughing blood again a bit ago."

The news sent a chill through Rikuo's spine, and his reply seemed to form a knot in his throat for a moment. "Just a few more minutes, then. We're almost done here too — can you guard this hole? No point wasting energy sealing it up so close to the end."

"I'm on it." 

Not waiting to continue the banter, Rikuo turned and launched himself back into the battle, his two-toned hair almost entirely white now due to the amount of snow caught in it. Only perhaps three of the Bakeōkami remained, and he lunged for them while Setsura and Itaku whirled around the last contingent of Kasha (those that hadn't run away, that is). Nenekirimaru bit into one's side and slammed against the fingers of another, causing him to drop his weapon and howl. Rikuo pivoted on one foot, invoking his fear as the third's scythe plunged into the snow where he had stood seconds before, and half stepped around the yōkai to slice through his neck before his afterimage had finished fading away.

The one who'd dropped his weapon snarled, abandoning it in the snow and shifting back to his wolf form as he leapt at Rikuo, teeth bared. As he raised his sword, letting it slide through the Bakeōkami's underside from throat to tail and stepping aside as its body fell to the ground, a shattering noise told him that the rest of the Kasha had been taken care of. At the same time, rising above the crackling of broken ice, he heard the loud wail of a child crying.

Almost immediately, the storm winds began fading, their whistling dying down as the whiteness obscuring their vision cleared away gradually. The last Bakeōkami, seeing that all of his companions were dead and that he had lost, quickly shifted back to the form of an overlarge, emaciated wolf and ran back into the woods. Rikuo watched him go, breathing heavily and staring at the deep paw prints left in the trampled and bloody snowbanks, before turning to run for the cave.

The ice wall was already fading out of existence when he reached it, the Yuki Onna undoing their magic now that it was no longer needed, and he stepped through just in time to watch Reira wrap the tiny, wailing child in another blanket and hand him to his exhausted mother. She fell asleep almost immediately after, completely worn out by the ordeal, and Shōei carefully lifted her into his arms.

Setsura and Itaku followed him in, and immediately split to attend to their daughter and friend, respectively. Tsurara was also clearly tired, and her mother picked her up as well as though she were still a child, whispering something to her daughter that had her smiling sheepishly and laughing. Reira wasn't quite so wearied, but her face was clearly drawn and her eyes teary, and she didn't argue when Itaku quietly wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Rikuo suspected the emotional intensity of the situation had brought back some painful memories for her, and felt a bit of relief that at least this time she got to see a good end to the story.

Still kneeling on the rocky floor of the cave, Zen slowly packed his medical supplies away, breathing clearly labored and cheeks pale. Upon looking up and spotting Rikuo watching them, he grinned in relief, but the rather strained expression rapidly faded away upon seeing the red-spotted makeshift bandage tied around his friend's arm. "Oi, you're hurt! Get over here so I ca—" 

He broke off into a coughing fit, pressing one fist against his lips as his shoulders shuddered. The Third hurried to kneel beside him, placing a hand carefully on his back until the coughing stopped.

Recovering his voice, the bird yōkai continued, "Lemme see your arm." Rikuo did so, wincing slightly as Zen untied the strip of cloth to reveal the injury — three long cuts scored diagonally down his arm, over a half-centimeter deep at least. "One of those cat bastards? How'd it get you?"

"Stopped it from stabbing one of you in the back." 

Rikuo jerked his head towards the spot where a hole had been broken in the now fading ice wall, and Zen made an indistinct noise of irritation as he pulled out a small pot of antiseptic salve and rubbed it none-to-gently onto the wounds. "Dumbass. Don't ya ever get tired of getting beat up like this?" Rikuo laughed, eyes warming slightly as his friend wrapped a bandage tightly around his arm.

"Not until I stop having friends to get beaten up for."

That brought a little color back to Zen's cheeks, and he laughed as well, the sound rough and painful in his throat as he leaned forward to muss Rikuo's hair with one hand. "Suppose I'll have to keep treating your foolish ass, won't I?"

The Nura head grinned brightly. "I guess you will! Alright, you ready too— Zen? Are you okay? Zen!"

As Rikuo was speaking, Zen had slowly pitched forward, hands falling limp as his head fell heavily onto his friend's shoulder. His breathing had, over the course of the conversation, grown audibly worse, and now it was a loud rasp. When Rikuo worriedly grasped his friend's shoulders, trying to lift him up, he could feel a feverish warmth through both layers of cloth.

The Third swore loudly, causing the rest of the yōkai to turn and look at him in surprise as he slung Zen's medicine sack over one shoulder and lifted his unconscious form gently. The bird yōkai had always been very light for his size (on account of birds having much lighter bones than other vertebrate animals), but because of how severe his illness had been the past winter, he was almost unsettlingly weightless.

Wordlessly, Rikuo signaled the group to set back for the Main House, teeth digging into his now bitten-raw lower lip as he ran.

_Damn it, Zen. You'd better recover from this, you idiot._

_If you don't, I'll never forgive you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, this is totally un-beta'd. I also wrote this in pretty much a single sitting, so it might be kinda shitty.
> 
> I've decided that this is gonna be a 3-shot, so the next chapter will be the finale and the comfort to go with this chapter's hurt.
> 
> Note: I have no idea how delivering a baby works. I apologize for the very vague bullshit description used in this chapter. Also I'm writing without actually looking back at the manga for reference (and although I re-read it recently, I only re-read up through the end of the Kyōto arc) so if I forget details about the canon plot, I'm really sorry!!
> 
> As always, feedback would be great if you have a minute! <3


	3. waiting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The worst is over, but sometimes the waiting can be just as bad.

**_「今大丈夫になる」_ **

**\---------------------------------**

"Rikuo, aren't you going to come to bed? You have school tomorrow."

The Third didn't even look up as he responded to his mother, who was standing in the doorway with a concerned expression on her still-young features. "In a bit, Mom. And school's probably going to be cancelled tomorrow, because of the snow. Not warm enough for it to melt quickly."

Wakana sighed and entered the room, kneeling next to her son and resting a hand gently on his shoulder. "He'll be alright, you know. He's stronger than he seems."

Rikuo bit his lip yet again (it had started bleeding again, and the parts that weren't were rough and chapped from the cold), fingers twitching from where they were curled tightly in the edge of the warm blanket that had been laid carefully over his unconscious friend. Zen hadn't woken up once since they had returned from the cave, and although his breathing had marginally improved once he was in a warm environment, it was still labored and painful. His skin continued to be feverish to the touch, and yet every now and then his hands would shake with tremors as though shivering.

"I know. I just want him to wake up."

His mother closed her eyes and wrapped one arm around his shoulders, gently pulling him into a hug and leaning his head against her shoulder the same way she had done when he was young. "He will, I'm sure of it." She sighed gently against the side of his head, leaning down to press a kiss to his hair. "I'm so proud of you, my dear. And so is your father. I'm sure of it."

"… you think?"

Wakana smiled softly. "Of course."

**\-------------------**

"Hey, Rikuo, did you hear that school's cl— what are you doing?"

The Third tripped, nearly dropping his sword as he turned to look at his classmates, who were gathered around the door to Zen's room in various states of confusion. He didn't quite understand why, until he glanced down at himself and realized that it probably looked a little strange for him to be swinging a sword around dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt in a sick person's room.

He laughed, beckoning them inside and over to the table across the room from where Zen continued to sleep. "Well, since school was closed, I was practicing some kendo moves. Since I didn't really get to learn much outside of how to not die in junior high school, I've been learning some traditional swordplay since then to add some foundation to my skills."

"Wow!" Kiyotsugu's eyes glittered excitedly, "That's so cool! Can you show us some moves? Oh, uh," He lowered his voice, glancing across the room apologetically. "Sorry."

The smile that had stretched across Rikuo's cheeks became somewhat strained. "It's fine. He's been sleeping since last night. Speak as loud as you want."

Kana leaned forward with a concerned expression. "What happened last night, anyways? You just came back with Tsurara and the other Yuki Onna and your friend passed out, and then you disappeared. And you were hurt," She added accusingly, remembering upon seeing the bandage still wrapped around her friend's bicep. "And nobody told us what happened!"

"Oh." He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "Sorry. So it was basically like what Reira said — the other Yuki Onna, whose name is Yōrira, went into labor, and the process would've killed her if Tsurara hadn't kidnapped Zen to help her. But they were up in this cave, and Zen didn't have anything warm — the cold's really bad for him, since his health isn't good — and they drew the attention of some other ayakashi. Ones that aren't allied with the Nura group, that wanted to kill them and possibly eat them. So we got there, and Reira and Shōei went to help Zen while Setsura and Itaku and I fought off the attacking ayakashi."

"What sort?"

He glanced at Kiyotsugu, who was wide-eyed with curiosity and had a pen and notebook in hand. "Bakeōkami — basically the feral, less powerful cousins of the Ōkami - and Kasha. I got hurt because one of the Kasha had broken through the ice wall Setsura put up to protect Zen and the others, and it was going to stab one of them with its claws, so I kind of tackled it."

Shima snorted. "Wait, you tackled it? The magnificent Lord of the Night, bringer of Pandemonium and Darkness, decided to take out his enemy like he was in an American Football game?"

"I— I mean—" Rikuo stammered for a few moments before collecting himself. "I wasn't at a good angle to use my sword, and it was about to stab Shōei or—" He broke off, looking across the room at his still-unconscious friend.

"Or Zen." Torii nodded knowingly. "And since he was already vulnerable, you got worried."

"I—" He paused, then grinned a bit sheepishly. "I guess I did. Anyways, they managed to deliver the baby just as we finished off the last of the attackers, but Tsurara and Miss Yōrira were both exhausted and fell asleep right away. Zen insisted on patching up my arm, like the _idiot_ ," This he called across the room with his voice raised, shooting a look at the still form under the blankets, "that he is, and then he passed out because being out in the cold for so long like that pretty much undid all of getting better he's done, and then some."

Thoughtfully, Kana mused, "And you didn't want to leave him alone, which is why you're practicing in here instead of outside."

"Well, there is still about a foot of snow outside." Rikuo shrugged, not denying that he was reluctant to leave the older yōkai's side. School being closed had been convenient, but if he were going to be completely honest with himself, he probably wouldn't have gone even if it were open. Zen was more important than a day of school (or several, the back of his mind supplied). "Anyways, you wanted to see some katas?"

"Yeah!"

He laughed and got to his feet, positioning his feet and starting the series of movements he'd been studying for the past two years. As he moved, he kept up a stream of commentary on the purpose of the different katas and movements, answering questions as he went. Gradually, of course, the questions drifted away from kendo and back to the other yōkai and yesterday's events.

"So," Shima leaned forward, "How's Tsurara? You said she fell asleep right away — is she alright?" He had, for the most part, gotten over his middle school crush on the Yuki Onna, but still held a certain degree of affection for her.

Rikuo didn't answer for a few moments, trying to remember how to execute one of the newer katas he'd learned, then replied, "Oh, she's fine. A little tired, a little woozy, but she's awake and all. She's been sitting with Miss Yōrira since she woke up, and Gozu and Mezu have both been keeping her company. It's almost cute."

"Are they the ones from the Gyūki group?"

He glanced over at Kiyotsugu and nodded. "Yeah. They're good guys, though — a little immature, but I guess most of us are, when you really think about it." Shrugging, he moved into the newest kata he'd learned. "They're both pretty fond of her, too, so I trust them to look out for her."

"Did Yura and her brothers leave already?" Torii glanced around, as though expecting them to pop out of the woodwork and answer the question for her. The movement caused her long braid to twitch back and forth, rather like the tail of the cat she was so often compared to.

Rikuo nodded, moving through the more complex steps of the kata with relative ease. "Yeah, as soon as the storm had stopped. Same with the Tōno group. I'm pretty sure Reira will come back to visit, though — I think seeing Yōrira and her son gives her a bit of closure about her mother."

"That's good." A small smile stretched across Kana's cheeks. "I'm glad everyone's alright."

Finishing the kata without responding, Rikuo worried at his bitten-raw lower lip and looked across the room with furrowed brows. "Yeah. It's— I'm glad too."

"Oh!" She followed his gaze, hands fluttering to her mouth. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean—"

"No, it's fine." He shook his head, sheathing his sword and propping it against the wall but continuing to stand, one foot turned toward his friend as though a part of him want to return to the unconscious yōkai's side. "He will be alright. He's— he's had worse than this. He'll be alright."

_He has to._

**\-------------------**

"I'm sorry, I didn't want you to skip school because of me—"

Rikuo shook his head, forcing a smile onto his face and leaving his spot in the doorway to sit down, seiza-style, on the tatami flooring. "I wasn't going today anyways, so it's no trouble, and I wanted to make sure you were doing better."

Hesitantly, Yōrira's lips quirked upwards into a small smile and she nodded, careful not to disturb the sleeping child in her arms. She looked much better than she had the past few days, now that she'd gotten a great deal of rest and proper food. Her long, blue-gray hair was pulled into a braid down her back, and her lilac-tinted eyes had finally regained some energy and were no longer framed by dark bruise-like bags. Her small son had similarly fair hair, but much darker skin, and already Rikuo could tell he would have a very aristocratic appearance once he matured. They hadn't asked her who the father was, and she hadn't brought it up, but all parties had agreed that the Nura clan would help raise the infant for as long as she wanted.

"Thank you very much for what you and your clan have done for me, Master Nura." She bowed her head slightly, and Rikuo's smile grew slightly less painful.

"Oh, no need for that. You can call me Rikuo. Master Rikuo or Young Master, if you must, but I've been trying to train the others out of that for years so I'd rather just Rikuo." He laughed a bit. "Of course, when I'm not in my human form, I rather enjoy it, so I suspect that's the root of the problem."

She tilted her head to the side. "You're not a full ayakashi?"

"I'm three-quarters human, so I can only really take on my ayakashi form for a quarter of the day," He explained, "Usually at night. A couple hundred years ago, Hagoromo-Gitsune placed a curse on my grandfather so that none of his line would be able to reproduce with another ayakashi. He never found out, since he married a human woman anyways, but then my father…" He trailed off for a few moments, looking off to the side as if remembering something that was once there, before shaking himself out of it. "She removed it after we made up with her a few years ago, but it didn't suddenly make me more of an ayakashi than before."

Yōrira shrugged slightly. "Well, it matters not. Full ayakashi or quarter, you saved me and my child, and I am indebted to you."

"Hey, don't thank me, I just killed some Bakeōkami and Kasha." Rikuo waved one hand, as though to brush away the notion. "The one who deserves that debt is Zen — he's the one who gave you medicine and helped you deliver your son. It's really all thanks to him and Tsurara, not us."

She nodded. "How is he?"

"He's—" Rikuo opened and closed his mouth a few times, clearly unsure of what to say. His fingers tightened in the fabric of his kimono, and he unclenched them deliberately, smoothing out the wrinkles as he pondered how to respond. In the thin beam of light filtering in through the clouds and the window, he looked both younger and older than he truly was. "Better. His breathing's improved since we brought him back, and he's stopped shivering. His fever's gone up, but my mother says that it's probably spiking, and it should start to ease off tomorrow or the day after." He bit his lip, teeth worrying at the frayed skin before he remembered that he really should stop doing that.

The Yuki Onna sighed softly. "He still hasn't woken, then?"

"…No."

"I see." Her brows furrowed inwards in concern. "I hope he recovers soon. I would like to thank him as well for the precious gift he has given me."

A slight smile tugged at Rikuo's cheeks. "I'm sure he'll be better soon enough, and he'll want to see you and your son immediately to make sure you're recovering properly." He stood to leave, straightening his kimono and then pausing by the door, "Have you chosen a name for the child?"

"I have." Yōrira smiled softly, looking down at the sleeping babe in her arms. "I think Shinzen would be a good name."

Rikuo paused in surprise before smiling softly and exiting the room, making his way downstairs to the room at the back of the house where his friend continued to sleep. As he walked, the smile slowly slipped away from his face, leaving his expression tired and unhappy. He pushed open the sliding door to Zen's room, shutting it behind him and crossing the room to sit down — not seiza this time, but cross-legged — next to his still-unconscious friend, wrapping his hands around one of Zen's and looking at him, as though searching for some sign of wakefulness.

It was the fourth day since the blizzard, and the bird yōkai still had yet to wake up, instead continuing to slumber under the thick blankets his friends had piled on top of him. Some color was starting to return to his face, but he was still altogether to pale and still.

Ukiyoe High had opened back up the day before, the snow having finally been cleared from the roads enough so that everyone could safely make it to school in time, but Rikuo hadn't gone. Neither had Tsurara, and Kiyotsugu took the job of telling their teachers why they were staying home — Tsurara's sister had given birth recently and still needed someone to look after her, and one of Rikuo's family members was very ill and they didn't want to leave him alone — and collecting their homework, which he'd brought over yesterday evening along with the first chapter of a comic he and Shima had begun drawing about Rikuo's adventures.

The comic had been entirely amusing, and not too badly drawn — illustration, it turned out, was one of Shima's many talents (others being speaking loudly and winning football games) — and Rikuo had been almost delighted to see that the first one was of the bus incident from elementary school, completely with details he'd told his friends about later, like Karasu Tengu carrying him home and Aobatō and Kurotabō arguing while fighting. He'd read it aloud that evening, in Zen's room, with his Hyakki Yakkō clustered around to contemplate the drawings and laugh at the memories.

Through it all, however, Zen had remained asleep. Rikuo was reminded of the day a few years ago, perhaps a month or two after the final battle with Abe no Seimei, when he and Zen had run into Shōei while visiting graves and spent the afternoon together reminiscing about their shared childhoods. The words he'd heard Zen saying to Shōei, that he had wished he hadn't heard, echoing in his mind.

_'We, the Zen group… are essentially ephemeral yōkai. And ever since Kyōto, fighting and becoming increasingly exhausted… my life is no longer long anymore.'_

And after that.

_'Rikuo too may already have an idea of what's going on… but for now, at least, I wish to stay by his side.'_

Something hot traced a line down his cheek, and Rikuo realized that his eyes had begun tearing up. He rubbed at them roughly with one hand, the other still wrapped around Zen's pale fingers. Somehow, they just kept coming, and he hissed in irritation as they marked out lines of salt on his skin in their inevitable journey downwards.

"Damn it, Zen." He bent over, resting his forehead on his friend's curled fingers, feeling the fever heat radiate out. "You asshole. You made it this far, you don't get to go yet. You don't… I thought you wanted to stay by my side?" His voice cracked slightly as he spoke. "You can't do that if you don't wake up, you know. You can't— you can't do that if you die on me like this."

"Rikuo?"

He looked up, surprised, and turned to see his mother in the doorway, one hand held hesitantly at her chest as though not sure whether she should speak. Wakana waited for a few moments before stepping quietly inside and kneeling down next to him, gently cupping one hand to his cheek and wiping away a few of the stray tears with her thumb. "It'll be okay, my dear. He'll be alright. There's no need to cry."

"Would you—" Rikuo paused, trying to find the right words for his question, "If Dad… if Dad were still alive, and this happened to him, what would you do?"

Wakana was surprised, eyes fluttering a bit wider as her mouth curled into a small o-shape, wondering if she should read into the comparison what her immediate thoughts had been. But her son knew she was an only child, he might have assumed it was the closest comparison to make… and yet the specific choice of her husband in the scenario made her wonder just what, exactly, her son felt for his sickly friend. 

However, that wasn't her business nor important to her ability to help her son, so she thought about the question. "If your father were still alive, and he fell ill like this?" Rikuo nodded, uncharacteristically hesitant. "Well, I would certainly worry, and I'd try to stay by his side, but… I don't think I'd be afraid, because I know he would be alright in the end. It would take more than this to beat him." She ran a gentle hand through her son's hair. "I'm sure Zen's the same."

He nodded, weariness filling his gaze as he looked from his mother to his friend. "I know, I'm just— We both know he doesn't have long left, maybe six or seven years at best." Shaking his head, he wrapped his hands tighter around Zen's. "I can't help but worry—"

"That the end is coming early?"

Rikuo nodded, and Wakana felt herself sighing again. "Oh, my dear. I promise you, he isn't dying. His fever is spiking, but it will begin to die down tomorrow, and he'll wake up within the week. He's not going away any time soon." She stood and brushed out her kimono, smoothing the fabric and straightening the obi. "Dinner is almost ready, if you'd like to join us tonight." He had eaten alone for the past few days, either in his room or in Zen's.

Today, however, he nodded once again and stood as well, gently placing Zen's hand back on top of the blankets and rubbing at his eyes until the only evidence of tears was a bit of redness around the rims. "That sounds good. Thanks, Mom."

"Of course."

**\-------------------**

"You know, he'd laugh at you for this."

Not looking up from the math problem he was currently puzzling over, Rikuo raised one middle finger in Shōei's direction as the half-yōkai entered the room, although it didn't achieve anything except to make his friend laugh. He was leaning over the sheets of homework that were currently spread over the table he had dragged across the room to Zen's bedside, so he could remain within reach of his friend while trying to figure out pre-calculus.

Sitting down beside him with more grace than should really be allowed for someone of his size, Shōei propped one elbow up on the table and rested his chin in the palm of his hand, staring down at the worksheets with a raised eyebrow. "I'm serious. You've barely left this room since Sunday night. Like you're some pining housewife or something."

That earned him an eraser to the forehead, and a somewhat grumpy, "Shut up, I'm seriously working here." Rikuo glanced up over the rim of his glasses (despite having stopped wearing the unneeded lenses, he sometimes liked to put them on while working to keep himself grounded — a reminder that he is human too, for the times when he needs to be) with narrowed eyes. "And what does it matter where I do my homework? This is one of the only quiet rooms in the house, you know, and I need to concentrate."

"Yeah, yeah." Shōei rolled his visible eye at his friend. "You do have to admit, though, it's like that whole soldier's wife cliche, isn't it? _'Oh, when will my husband return from the wa—'_ ow, OW!" He broke off his falsetto impersonation as Rikuo whacked him in the shoulder with a fairly heavy textbook. "Jeez, can you make a weapon out of everything?"

"Mathematics," Rikuo stated with an exaggerated 'sagely' voice, "Is a weapon in and of itself. It needs no vessel by which to do harm."

"So you don't like it, then?"

He groaned, tossing down his pencil and leaning back with a long-suffering expression. "Never have, never will. And I'm not even bad at it, either! It just drives me up the wall! Hey," He leveled a tired glare at Shōei as the latter burst into laughter, and flicked a second eraser at his friend's forehead, "Don't laugh. You didn't even go to high school." A pause, and then, "And oi, whats with all those weird romantic cliches you're bringing up? We're not some old married couple, you know!"

"Yeah, because Zen's not—"

Shōei's voice trailed off, even though they both knew what he had been about to say.

_Zen's not gonna get old._

With a sigh, Rikuo gathered his papers and replaced them neatly in his bag, retrieving the erasers and textbook as well. "There's really no point trying to do homework right now. I just… can't distract myself, somehow. I've tried to stop thinking about it, but nothing seems to work."

"Well, not leaving his room could be a part of the problem."

Both boys glanced up at the door, where Tsurara was standing with a tray in hand. "Honestly, Master Rikuo, it would be easier if you weren't spending every second with him. It's not exactly easy to not think about someone who's always a foot away from you, you know." She crossed the room and sat down between them, setting the tray (revealed to be a light lunch) on the table and withdrawing a sheaf of papers from her obi. "Anyways, Shima brought the next chapter. I'm not sure how he manages to get these done so quickly…" Her eyes narrowed, "Unless he'd already drawn them and now he's just giving them to us day by day."

"Knowing Shima, I wouldn't be surprised." A grin stretched across Rikuo's face as he reached for the papers carefully, placing them in the middle of the table so all three could see them. "I bet he's doing it to try and make me feel better. Let's see, this one is— eh?" He flipped through the first few pages, then back to the front of the set. "This one's with Zen! Remember, Tsurara? The incident with Hebidayu!"

"Huh? When did this happen?"

"Oh, it was before you came back, Shōei." Rikuo turned the pages so that all of them could cluster around one end of the table to read them. "Hebidayu, who was in the Zen Sect at the time, basically tried to take over— Zen's house burned down, too. That was the first time since elementary school that I took on my Night form— everybody was so excited, and I was so confused because I couldn't remember a thing."

Tsurara, who had been flipping through the pages, burst into giggles once she reached the fifth. "Oh my gosh, the tea! I'd forgotten about that— and how angry he got!" She grinned brightly. "I love how Shima draws all these expressions — of course, your faces are the best, Master Rikuo."

"He hasn't even drawn everybody yet!" Shōei protested, clearly miffed about being so easily booted from the running for best-drawn-expressions.

Rikuo, meanwhile, laughed at the next few pages. "Oh, that's right, he got really mad at me. He even used his feathers!" He looked at page eight and, with a mischievous grin, mock-yelled in his worst impression of Zen's voice, " _'I shouldn't have to live for this sort of guy! That's it! I'm leaving!'_ Wow, he really was angry!"

"Rikuo, that was terrible." Shōei clapped slowly as Rikuo pretended to bow like a flamboyant western actor, much to the trio's laughter. "You should do it again once he's awake — just imagine his face!"

The Third sighed, leaning forward to turn the pages once again. "Well, he'll have to wake up first."

**\-------------------**

Once they reached the Sakazuki (some twenty pages in — how in the world did Shima do this?), Shōei groaned dramatically and flopped onto his back. "Aah, I guess he was your first underling, then. Sakazuki, that's fair and square." He fell silent for a few moments, before yelling, "Damn it! I wanted to be first! Zen, you _asshole_!" Rikuo grinned, opening his mouth to retort, when another voice beat him to it.

"Oi, good fucking morning to you too." This was followed by a weak, raspy cough, and then, "Is this how you always wake people up, blockhead?"

Rikuo whirled around in place, brown eyes widening until the whites were visible and hair falling into his face as he looked down at Zen, who was raising a weak hand to cover his eyes against the ambient light of the room. Under the layers of blankets, he still looked frail and washed out, but even as they watched he twisted his neck side-to-side and looked over at them with bright red eyes and a small grin.

"What're you all staring at, huh?" The grin tugged a bit wider as he pushed himself into something almost like a sitting position, one hand rubbing at his forehead idly as though it was bothering him (after five days of sleeping, the ambient light was likely causing a bit of a headache). "Look like you've all seen a gho—oof! Oi, what are you—" He cut himself off, looking down to see that Rikuo had tossed aside all teenage dignity and lunged forward, wrapping arms around his friend and hugging him with as much strength as possible.

Shōei stifled a snort of laughter, and leaned down to whisper something in Tsurara's ear, which broke her out of her shocked expression by causing her to burst into giggles herself. "Oh, of course! That makes so much sense! If it's not—"

"Oi, oi, what's going on?" Zen flapped a hand at the two, voice rough and gravelly but clear as he spoke, "Why's Rikuo acting like I just came back from the dead, or something? Don't think he's gonna tell me." He indicated the teen still clinging to his torso like some sort of very large, humanoid limpet. Rikuo just shook his head, pressing his forehead against Zen's shoulder and biting his lip yet again to stop himself from doing something embarrassing — that is, saying something weird or crying.

His friends, still sitting at the other side of the table, glanced at each other. Eventually, Shōei leaned forward and started carefully gathering Shima's illustrations into a tidy stack, speaking evenly as he did so. "You've been unconscious for five days, Zen. He's— Rikuo's been really worried."

"Oh!" Tsurara leaned over to look at the back of Rikuo's head. "Master Rikuo, does this mean you'll go back to school now? Your teachers are starting to get a little suspicious, you know."

One layer of blanket fell back as Zen sat up a little straighter, one hand instinctively curling over Rikuo's shoulders as he did so. He looked down at his friend with one eyebrow raised. "What's that about? You skipping school over me, idiot?"

"Shut up. I'll go back on Monday."

The Yuki Onna giggled at the teen's muffled voice, one hand delicately covering her mouth as the skin beside her eyes crinkled in mirth. "I'm sure everyone will be glad to see you back, Master Rikuo. Come on, let's finish the chapter — there's still a few pages left that you didn't read!" She took the stack of illustrations from Shōei's hands, despite the taller boy's protests, holding them out to Rikuo invitingly. 

He just shook his head. "You guys can finish them without me. I already know what happens."

"Chapter?" Zen, however, leaned forward curiously, peering over at the papers with wide red eyes. "What's all this stuff?"

"Oh," A snort escaped Shōei as he glanced down at the pages, watching Tsurara hand them to Zen with so much enthusiasm that a few of the corners and edges were crinkled, "Hey, careful. Rikuo's friend Shima's been illustrating a story about all of his adventures. This one's—"

He was cut off by the bird yōkai's loud laugh. " ' _Rikuo, Angered by the Sworn Brother_ '? What the fuck — is this one about _me_? Am I in this?"

"Yes." Tsurara's smile was poised and mischievous, golden eyes glittering. "It's about the Hebidayu incident." She hadn't actually been at all involved with the incident in question, but a part of her was amused at the idea of seeing Zen re-reading that night. (And okay, she might be a _little_ excited about him having to remember cussing her out like that. A part of her pride was still a bit miffed about that).

Zen flipped quickly from page to page, mouthing the words silently as he read. One eyebrow slowly crept higher and higher up his forehead the further he got into the story, though what emotion it was indicated was unclear due to the overall stillness of his expression. When he reached the Sakazuki, however, he laughed out loud and shot Shōei a triumphant look.

"See? I _told_ you—"

"I _know_ , you asshole!"

The grin didn't leave Zen's face, though, and he flipped quickly through the last few pages before tossing the papers back onto the table and reaching down to poke Rikuo's shoulder. "See, Rikuo? I was your first subordinate, after all—"

"Hey, but you drank a 50-50." Tsurara pointed out, "That doesn't make you a subordinate. You were the first to make a pledge, but the first one to do a 70-30 with Master Rikuo… wait, who was it?" She paused, tilting her head to the side like a cat while thinking, one finger tapping her lip as she did so. "I think it was Aotabō, actually, although five of us took it in the same sitting, just one after the other. Ao, Kuro, Kubinashi, Kappa, and me." She glanced up at Shōei with a mischievous grin. "So you weren't anywhere _close_ to first. I'm pretty sure Jami took a pledge before you did, Shōei."

The half-yōkai groaned, falling back onto the floor in defeat and letting his arms flop out to the sides. "Jeez… there goes my childhood dream. Just like that! Zen, that was so not fair!"

"You were just too slow, blockhead!" Chuckling, Zen glanced down at Rikuo's head again, nudging him with one outstretched finger. "Isn't that right, Ri— Rikuo? You there? Oi, I think he's asleep." 

This was indeed the case. During the debate, the young Head's eyes had fallen closed and his breathing had slowed, tension seeping out of his shoulders as he leaned against his friend. Smiling to herself, Tsurara leaned over and carefully eased the glasses off of his nose, folding them and tucking them away into a pocket of his schoolbag. 

"That's good." Shōei murmured, sitting up and propping his chin up in one hand as he looked at his sleeping friend. "He hasn't really been sleeping. I know he still gets nightmares sometimes about the Kyōto battles, the Hundred Tales invasion, that last fight with the Nue… and since Sunday he's just been patrolling at night instead of sleeping at all. I think he went up to the mountain where we found you guys the other night to clear out the rest of the Bakeōkami. He came back all bloody, but I don't think it was his."

Tsurara nodded. "It was the same last night. He told me he was _'finding all the other ways to skin a cat'_ , so I think he went after the group of Kasha that ran away." 

"Ah." Looking down at his sleeping friend, Zen fought the urge to wake him up and ask what the _hell_ he had been thinking, not taking care of himself like that. It wasn't like this sort of thing hadn't happened before — Rikuo knew that, he knew that Zen was essentially living on the last dregs of an hourglass — so why had he gotten that upset about it? "You idiot." His voice was soft. "I told you not to worry like that."

Glancing between the two, Shōei stood and stretched languidly. "We should leave you to rest. I can bring Rikuo back to his room—"

"No." There was an odd tone in Zen's voice as the bird yōkai carefully leaned back and closed his eyes, "It's fine. He can stay here."

It took Shōei a few moments to process, while Tsurara just smiled and leaned forward to draw the blankets back up over both of them, running a fond hand through her Master's hair. "I'll make sure someone brings some food later. Go ahead and rest now, Master Rikuo, Zen." She stood carefully, gathering up the mostly-empty tray from the table, and turned to leave before pausing and glancing back at Zen. "Oh, Yōrira's awake. She's been wanting to thank you, so would you mind if I tell her you're up?"

"Go ahead." Zen opened one eye to watch them leave, and once the door had slid shut behind them he turned his head back to look up at the ceiling, his narrowed gaze somewhat contemplative. One arm curled back over Rikuo's shoulders, the other carefully unwinding the teen's arms from around his torso (so that they wouldn't loose circulation) and settling them back into a more comfortable position. For a minute, then two, they remained just like that. 

After a few moments of stillness, Zen sighed and craned his neck up, leaning over to press his lips gently against his sleeping friend's forehead for a few moments before returning to his previous position and letting his eyes fall closed.

"Damn it, Rikuo." The teen didn't respond — not that Zen thought he would. It was probably better that he didn't — Zen had done a lot of sleeping recently, now it was Rikuo's turn. "You're not supposed to care this much about a transient creature like me."

_After all, you won't have my poison wings here to protect you forever._

_Not that you need protecting from much besides yourself._

_Damn it. Feelings like this… shouldn't be allowed._

_They'll just make the inevitable more difficult._

_And if we decide to let them free…_

_What will you do when the hourglass runs out?_

_Ah, it doesn't matter, anyways._

_Since we're here now._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo yo yo! One more chapter to go! I ended up deciding that I wanted to put the "epilogue" in a separate chapter, so this fic will actually have four.
> 
> Again, apologies for not-great writing! Please leave a kudos or comment if you like it! <3


	4. hanami

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sort-of epilogue.

**_「よかった」_ **

**\---------------------------------**

"Damn, not letting me go to the second _O-Hanami_. Invalid my _ass_ , they're all just a bunch of bastards."

Rikuo laughed, leaning over and bumping his friend's shoulder gently. A week and a half after Zen had woken up, the Nura Clan decided to have a second flower viewing — a smaller one, of course, since they couldn't ask their friends and allies from all over the country to make the trip down again. They had gotten a few new additions, however — Shima and Maki, who were both finally available to join them, and Yōrira and her son. They'd set up in the same field as the previous event, but this time everyone brought smaller blankets so that people could set up under different trees and not crowd each other out.

The organizer himself, however, had elected to stay behind at the main house, citing that once had been enough for him and he really needed to catch up on homework. A few of his friends had laughed and shot him knowing looks as he said this, eyeing him and Zen with that amused sort of _'I know what you're really thinking'_ expression. He'd just raised an eyebrow at them in turn before smirking and refusing to say anything more.

Now, the two of them were sitting on the back porch of the main house, looking out at the uncharacteristically tranquil yard. A small tray sat in front of them, bearing a small selection of snacks that Wakana had brought out a few minutes earlier. 

"Do you think Mom knows?"

Zen paused his half-hearted griping, turning to look at his companion with an eyebrow raised. "Knows what? That we're not at the _O-Hanami_? Pretty sure she does know that, unless she just decided to bring food out to a pair of strangers hanging out in her house." Then again, he wouldn't put that past Wakana.

Rolling his eyes, Rikuo nudged Zen's shoulder again. "Not that, stupid." He raised their hands, fingers twined loosely together, glancing between them and Zen's face for a few moments before letting them rest back on the smooth wood of the deck. "About this."

"Keh." Zen shrugged carefully, trying not to dislodge the extra cloak that was draped over his shoulders, and coughed a few times before speaking again. "You think it changes anything if she does?"

"… I guess not."

"Exactly." Satisfied, the bird yōkai leaned back, bracing himself with his other hand as he watched clouds crawling lazily across the sky. "Why'd you think she does?"

A pinkish flush crawled across Rikuo's cheeks, and he made a number of interesting faces before finally managing to respond. "I, er… I might have— when you were unconscious— _I might have accidentally compared us to her and Dad while I was asking for advice and she didn't say anything but she made this sort of surprised face and I'm pretty sure she knew before I did_." The words tumbled out in a rush, and he turned away with an embarrassed expression. 

Next to him, Zen burst into laughter, though it soon turned to a coughing fit that he had to lean forward and let go of Rikuo's hand in order to cover his mouth. After a few moments, the fit subsided, and he sat back up and wiped tears of mirth from the corners of his eyes. "You really _don't_ know how to be subtle, moron! You compared us to—"

"To be fair, I didn't exactly realize there was something to be subtle about then." Rikuo huffed, leaning back against Zen's shoulder and crossing his arms. He fell silent, and together they watched the clouds for a few minutes. A small frog — just a frog, not a small yōkai — hopped across the grass of the yard, chirping. A few birds sang and twittered in the trees, indicating that spring truly had arrived. 

Eventually, Zen sighed and tossed an arm over Rikuo's shoulders, resting his head sideways on top of his friend's. "Something bothering you?"

"…" The Third exhaled softly, letting his hands fall to his lap. "Just thinking. How long do you think you have left, Zen? After the storm…"

"Probably about five or six years, give or take a few months." The bird yōkai shrugged nonchalantly. "Less if we have more winters like that, maybe one or two more if everything stays warm and mild." He glanced down at Rikuo, one eyebrow tilting up in curiosity. "Why?"

The young Head pressed teeth into his lower lip for a moment. "As the head of the Nura Group, I need to think about the future of the clan. Eventually, I will need to find or produce an heir to take over when I pass on, which means I'll likely need to marry." He frowned. "The council knows that, and I'm not sure how soon they'll start bringing it up in meetings. Since we don't know how long I'll live — whether it will be a human's lifespan, or that of an ayakashi — they'll probably want an heir sooner rather than later, to ensure the continuation of the Nura Group. But five or six years… it won't be hard to convince them to wait at least that long before pushing the topic."

"Ah." Zen paused, "Who would you choose? For a wife, that is."

Rikuo shrugged. "Tsurara, probably. I can trust her, and she'd be a good mother. I don't really know anyone else who'd be okay with the position."

"One of your human friends?"

The Third shook his head. "No. They deserve to have normal human lives. Plus, it would probably be better if my heir were more ayakashi than I am. I wouldn't want them to go through the mess I went through to become the Head."

Zen pondered the statement for a few minutes before nodding in agreement. "Yeah, that's fair." His arm pulled away from Rikuo's shoulders, and instead reached between them to twine their fingers once again. "And what do you think you'll be doing until then? Fighting uprisings and pranking people, getting all beat up like an idiot and making me patch up your stupid ass all the time?"

"Sounds about right." Rikuo managed a laugh, sitting upright again and grinning. "As long as you and those wings of yours want to stick around, of course."

"Keh." Rolling his eyes, Zen tilted his head down and pressed their lips together carefully, just a fleeting touch before drawing back and responding with a cocky grin of his own. " _Moron_. I'm staying by your side until I stop breathing, and then some. Can't get rid of me that easily."

The grin on Rikuo's face turned into a warm smile. "Dumbass. Why would I even want to?"

_It's impossible to stop the inevitable, so we'll just have to make the most of what time is left._

_Even though your life is as fleeting as the cherry blossoms…_

_We'll make it worthwhile._

_Together._

**\---------------------------------**

**_「ありがとう」_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AKA THIS HUMBLE AUTHOR HAS NO FUCKING IDEA WHAT THEY'RE DOINGGGGGG.
> 
> Thank you very much for reading this short fic! I hope to write a lot more for this fandom, with a lot of different ideas and pairings (and perhaps some without pairings too), when I have time and my writing is better :) In the meantime, I hope this was a good read!
> 
> I might end up re-writing it sometime - maybe in a year when I can look back at it and point out all the ways my writing is shitty, haha.
> 
> As always, a comment or kudos would be fantastic! <3 (and if you have any questions, feel free to ask!)

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment and leave feedback! I will love you for all eternity if you do!
> 
> NOTE: Yeah bro I know I mucked up some appearances and stuff. I wrote this with pretty much no reference other than checking some names and plot points, okay? I didn't bother checking appearances. Also, some characters have different colors between the manga and the anime. So whatever y'all. ^^


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